Dean's Sweet Van
by NurseLintu
Summary: Dean catches Cas stealing from his sweet van. He thinks up the perfect punishment for the crime. Just a little one. Rated for language, content, serious smut... Don't like don't read, people! Simple as! Don't look for it if you don't like it. Take you anger out elsewhere. Cheers and tables (:
1. Chapter 1

**This is dedicated to halle mcready... She knows why x x x**

**Thank my dreams for this one :)**

**It is one of those vans, where you open up the side of it and serve out of there... Like an ice cream van... Like a burger van even... But I have NO idea what they're called, and Google isn't being much help -glare-**

**Oh, and this is totally based on Carew Market... Not that anyone knows what/where that is, but hey!**

**Oh, one final note! I just listed the first movies that came to mind... No one be upset by the choices!**

**I haven't had this beta'd, and it's nearly 3 am, so I couldn't spot mistakes if they were doing the can can... Apologies in advance (:**

"No, sir, really. We paid! Look! The money is right there!" I point, but it is no use. The man's pretty eyes are ablaze with fury. His fists are balled at his sides, and I am a little afraid that he wants to hit me. The look he is holding me with is intense. More than I am used to, or comfortable with. Maybe it's time to run.

Okay.

Let me just give you a run down of the events of the last half hour or so that have led us to this point. Buckle up.

My friend and I were just ambling around this market, checking out the stalls and the rails upon rails of cheap knock off clothing. Our parents had dragged us here so they could go 'prezzie shopping' although what on earth they thought they were going to get in a place like this was beyond myself and Uriel. We spent a good while looking through this insane collection of DVDs and VHS tapes one bloke had, but frankly, most of them were crap, and they looked like they had probably sat in the back of a garage for a decade or so before his wife finally flipped out and told him to get rid of them or she'd burn the sodding lot. Not that I would blame her for that. There were a handful of copies of the various Rocky films on VHS, Robocop, Star Wars, and the rest of them looked like B grade movies made with a hand held camcorder by a bunch of high school students. Suffice to say, we moved on without making any purchases. A large corner of the barn was occupied by everything baby you could imagine; Moses baskets and stands, cots, cot beds, strollers, car seats, prams, high chairs. The next stall along was full of baby blankets, baby clothes, maternity wear. We walked straight past those. Shoes. None nice. Cheap jewelry. Crafts. Accessories for girls – hair brushes, hair pins, cheap, nasty make up, nail varnishes of every color known to man, those plastic looking clip in colored hair strips that girls thought looked good, head bands. I wanted to cry at that point. How the hell were our parents going to find gifts in this dump? Outside was stall upon stall of people unwanted garbage. I'm pretty sure we passed a place that sold static caravans, and another that did something with stones.

My stomach had started to protest to its lack of lunch, so we had set off to the burger van. A burger and a hot dog each later, Uriel and I slouched back in to the hard plastic chairs, hunger sated for the time being.

"What about dessert?"

My jaw dropped. "You fat slag!" I smiled at the 70 something lady who gave me a horrified look as she overheard my affectionate insult.

"I'm not talking a Bruce Bogtrotter cake... Although sans blood and sweat, I wouldn't mind giving that a go one day..." Uriel slipped off in to a daydream.

I hit the table between us.

Uriel jumped.

"Dude?"

"What?"

"You were saying..."

"Oh." His face creased. "I don't remember. Oh. Yeah. Food. Dessert." He wiped his hands on a tissue, then dabbed it over his lips. "I saw a candy van somewhere around, I'm sure. Surely?"

I blinked at him.

He didn't bother waiting for my answer.

I rushed after him, grabbing a handful of the back of his shirt to yank him back towards me. "Wait for me, you gay."

"Who are you calling gay?" Uriel shot me a look that made me laugh. He was so sensitive about sexuality jokes. I, of course, being the fantastic friend that I am, exploited this at any given opportunity.

"Where's this alleged van then, U?"

"It's around here somewhere." He scanned the local area like a cop looking for a suspect, then he appeared to hone in on something. My wrist was grabbed and I was hauled a few more yards until we came to a candy version of a burger van. The choice was extensive, and I found myself just scanning the endless bags, not even having a clue where to begin.

"Twat isn't even there." Uriel grumbled.

"What?" I heard what he said, but my brain was having difficult processing it and translating it in to Castiel for me.

"The what's-he-called? The bloke we pay."

I baulked. The word evaded me too. "Oh." That would do.

Uriel picked up his choice and grinned at it like it was a messiah. "I want these."

I couldn't help but laugh at his childishness, and he swatted me. After a few more minutes of procrastinating the choice painfully, I finally picked out my bag and looked up at the still empty van. "Fuck sake."

"Where is this dick head?"

I shrugged. "Fag break? Having a dump. I don't know."

"Well he's gonna lose himself two customers if he doesn't hurry up." A wicked look crossed Uriel's face, and he swung his head from side to side dramatically, checking his surroundings. "Unless."

For the second time that day, my jaw dropped. "U-ri-ellllll!" I dragged it out, whining like a petulant four year old. "You can't _steal_."

"Why not? Douche isn't here to be paid; he doesn't deserve to be paid."

"He might be on a pee break, or getting a coffee or, hey, maybe he's had a family emergency. You can't take it without paying!" I won't lie; I was horrified by Uriel's suggestion to steal the candy. It might not have been much, and granted, he was probably charging double what he paid for it, so even two bags down, he'd still be turning a profit, but still. I had had it hammered in to me (not literally) since a young age that stealing was wrong. So much as pinch a cookie from the cookie jar and I would get a hot backside and sent to my room until further notice.

"Well what are we supposed to do then?" Uriel was getting annoyed, and I could see him picking a hole in the bag already.

I shrugged wildly. "I dunno, leave the money somewhere, and a note explaining the circumstances."

It was Uriel's turn to laugh at me. "You are such a teacher's pet."

I frowned. "What do teachers have to do with this situation-" I cut myself off and raised my hands. "Forget it! Just shut up and give me the money."

After a couple more minutes of whining and arguing with each other, Uriel finally, reluctantly handed over the money. "I'm not having any part in this." He groused, and with that, he turned on his heel and stomped away. "I'll see you at the car."

I shook my head at the retreating boy, and unfolded the piece of paper I had pulled out from my trench coat pocket. Apart from being really fucking warm, the trench coat had the most epic pockets, which were big enough to keep a notepad and pen in – two items I seemed to always need. Using the inner floor of the van to lean on, I jotted a note in my neatest hand writing, detailing the candy we had taken and the price of each bag, and that we had left the money to pay for them folded up in the other piece of paper (which I would place on top of the note). That was when the yelling began.

**Chapter 1 :) More to come...**


	2. Chapter 2

"We're not stealing, I promise you!"

The man – whose simple name badge introduces him as Dean – looks from side to side and then back at me. He lowers his voice and leans in towards me. I am hit with the smell of after shave balm and sugar, and I gasp as the heat from his breath tickles my lips. "You can work it off for me."

For the third time, my jaw drops. "Sir, I'm here with my parents. And my friend. And his parents. I can't-"  
"Then I guess I'll just have to press charges."

My eyes grow wide as he leans away from me, and I fight the urge to pull him back to me and beg him not to. So I just beg. "No, no, no, no, no. Pleeeeeeease don't." I whine. "You can't. Look! The right money is right here!"

"You took it without asking! It's the principle."

"Oh for fucks sakes." I flail my arms.

Dean seems taken aback by my outburst. Some emotion his face, but I can't quite tell what it is. He chews on his lip, then nods, apparently having come to some decision in his head. I hope he's going to let it go. I mean, we left the right money, for crying out loud, what else can he want? "Okay." He says. I hold my breath. "Take me to your parents."

I deflate. "What?" My voice comes out several octaves higher than I mean it to, and I clear my throat, my cheeks flushing. "Jesus H Christ." I mutter. "Fine. If you're going to be a dick about it, fine." My parents are scary. Maybe they'll frighten him off. One of the joys about being sixteen is that in the right circumstances, it is still acceptable to hide behind Mama and Papa whilst they sort out your problems for you.

Fat load of use that was. They shouted at me, apologized to _Dean_ and agreed to pick me up at 9 that evening, after the market was closed and packed away. Dean seemed more than happy at that agreement.

So half an hour after that, I am standing in the van, leaning against the small platform, scowling. I can feel Dean looking at me, but I choose to ignore him. Not only has he gotten me in to deep shit with my parents for stealing, but he's made me wear this stupid fucking apron and a pair of shorts. I mean shorts! Who wears shorts? I have my Thursday socks on too, simply because they were the first pair I grabbed when I forced to get out of bed before 2 o clock in the afternoon on a Sunday, so now I look even more of a tit than if I had just been wearing the stupid shorts. I had pondered taking the socks off completely, but I had nowhere to put them, and something about no socks and sneakers was really unappealing. I turn to glare at Dean, and am horrified to find him smirking at me. "What are you looking at?"

Dean shakes his head, but he doesn't take his eyes off me. When he does, it is to peer at an approaching weary looking mother of three, being pulled at and harassed from every angle. Perhaps my fate isn't so bad.

"Yes okay, okay. Wait a minute. Now hush, so the nice boys can hear me, please." She looks up at me and starts naming things that are as familiar to me as ancient Greek. I stare blankly back at her.

"Sorry, Ma'am; he's new." Dean leans across in front of me and reaches out for the three bags and hands them to her. They exchange money, and he bids her a good day.

She smiles at him, and I recognize a slightly worn, but lustful look. That's when I notice Dean winking at her.

For the fourth time that day my jaw drops. "Are you for real?"

Dean looks at me, and he grins. "What? You jealous?"

I grimace. "What? No! Fuck you."

Something crosses Dean's face again, this time, it is dark. Sinister. "Watch what you say, boy." I peg Dean to be about 24, but sometimes, by the way he acts, and something in his eyes, he seems older. He holds my stare for another few unsettling seconds, then turns away to serve another customer.

Another hour passes, and my legs are sore, my back is aching and I'm tired. "I want to go home."

"You should have thought of that before you tried stealing."

I shoot him a look. "I wasn't stealing."

Dean smiles falsely and nods. "Sure." He nods to the next batch of approaching customers. "Your turn."

I am getting to know the names of the various candies and chocolates and bars now, and a lot of the customers are friendly and helpful enough to give you hints and direct you to the right item. There is a large family, eight in total, and the kids are jumping up and down shouting about what they all wanted, apparently in a contest of who can shout the loudest. Apparently, Dad wins. Once everyone is quiet again, he starts relaying the orders. He is a patient man – and with six kids all still alive, I guess that is kind of imperative – and he allows me to take my time in getting to all the bits he asks for.

Immediately after the ginormous family sidles off in to the crowd, another, smaller, family arrive. I can see more people showing interest in the van, and I try not to panic. I serve the first two lots of customers, then prepare for the third. This is another family. Just five this time, but it's enough. And they want a lot.

I am so busy trying to decipher what the lady is saying – I can't quite place it, but she has a strong accent, and anything other than loud, slow and clear has always been a sticking point for me – that it takes me a moment to notice the feeling on the inside of my knee. I rub my knees together in an attempt to brush away the itch. But it returns. Higher up this time. I want to swear, but I hold it in. I had already looked a wally wiggling around getting to the last itch, so I would wait until I had finished serving the customers before I got down and raked at this itch with my nails. The tickling sensation moves higher and I huff. I lean over to take the money from the short lady – who seems to give no thought to attempting to meet me half way – and gasp stupidly as the sensation rushes up my inner thigh. I grin and swap over money after a quick mental count, then hand the change over. Just when I think I can see to this nuisance, another family arrives. I curse them inwardly, but smile at them. We go through the same routine, but this time I am getting a little antsy. I try not to let it show. That tickling sensation is getting uncomfortably high, and I am going to have to stuff my hands down the front of my shorts to sort it now. Something brushes lightly over the sensitive skin of my scrotum, and I shudder. What the fuck? My eyes dart to the other side of the van to ensure Dean isn't watching me and laughing at me. He isn't. But where the fuck is he? Surely I would have noticed if he had squeezed past me and pushed off out. There was scarcely space to swing a cat, let alone for a full grown man to wander past unnoticed. I flush as I felt my shorts beginning to restrict. I shift my weight, praying that I wasn't going to get a boner. Not now. I hand over the change, and sigh as a young couple approach. I now have a raging hard on, and I bent over at a strange angle trying to make myself as comfortable as possible. I serve the couple, then reach down my hand to adjust myself. My eyes drop down, and for the fifth time, my jaw drops. "Dean?" I say, indignant.

He grins at me from under the counter.

"What the fuck are you playing at?"

He wrinkles his nose and taps on the side of it. "Don't tell me you didn't like it."

"I could get you done for child molestation." I hiss. Before I get a chance to continue my threats, another family approach. I put on my poker face and start serving them. I can feel what I now know to be a hand trailing up the inside of my thigh again, tickling at my groin. I have to stop myself from crying out when I feel Dean's nose nuzzle against my erection. I knee him in the head. I smile and pretend I haven't heard the subsequent thud and string of curses. "Is there anything else?" I ask politely. They shake their heads, thank me then leave.

Dean stands next to me, and my smile dissolves as I glare back at him. "What in the name of fuck do you think you're doing? If you touch me one more time-"

"You'll what?" Dean's hand brushes over my crotch and I shudder again. I am ashamed to say that I want him to do it again.

Perhaps I left one vital detail out. Dean is really fucking hot. I am talking male model; emerald green eyes, prominent cheekbones, rich, tanned skin, full lips, the works. Everything perfect a man can have, all wrapped up in one package. I'm not exactly gay, but I know a hot guy when I see one. And I might have had a steamy run in with one of the guys on my baseball team, but we were both high, so as far as we were both concerned, nothing had ever happened. Dean though. Wow. Just wow.

**Just to clarify, yes the swap in tenses is deliberate (: It's like, it starts at one point, then goes back to explain what happened to get to that point, then it returns to the starting point and continues :)**


	3. Chapter 3

It quietens down for a while, and Dean and I pop out for a quick coffee break. I make it obvious that I am keeping my distance. He makes it obvious that he doesn't care.

"You got a girlfriend, Cas?"

I look at him, look him up and down. Trying to decide whether or not he's being serious. He is looking straight back at me, the look of an over confident arrogant jock spread across his perfect face. "Yeah." I lie.

"What's her name?"

"Freya." It's hardly the hottest sounding name; I should have gone for Cindy or Olivia or something. I hold his stare, fighting back the tell tale twitch in my eye that is just desperate to give away my flat out lie.

Dean smirks. He nods. He sips his coffee. "Sure. You been all the way with her?"

"What the fuck is it to you?" I briefly entertain the idea of throwing myself to the floor and yelling that he tried to _touch_ me or something, but there are too many witnesses to back up Dean's story. Maybe later when we're clearing up. I doubt anyone will be paying enough attention to us to say for sure that I am crying wolf. I smile, but quickly replace it with another irritated glower. "For your information, yes." I feel like he is challenging me. Perhaps I'll challenge him to a duel in a sunny court of law for indecent propositioning of a minor. Dick.

"Come on, kiddo. Finish up that coffee. We need to get back to it."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not a kid. I'm sixteen."

Dean pats me on the shoulder when he passes me, and leans in. "Well I'm three years older than you, so that makes you a kid to me, buddy."

"Maybe you should think twice about touching me then, _pervert_." I let out a strange sound in frustration as he throws back his head and cackles, totally unaffected by my words. "I'm serious." I continue as I catch up to him. "I'll tell my parents,"

"No you won't." Dean is certain. He looks at me as we file back in to the sweet van, and I freeze. There is a moment in there somewhere, where I have that horrible feeling I am going to die very soon. His words leave a bitter after taste, and I begin to daydream about exactly how I am going to meet my demise at the hands of this sexy stranger.

There is little to report over the next couple of hours or so, just the occasional wink or cocky smirk. He probably stands a little closer to me than is totally necessary, but I pretend not to notice. Hopefully, if I ignore him, like a child, he'll get bored and find a different game to play.

There is a sudden rush at about 6pm; frantic parents getting their tired children little treats to eat in the car on the way home to keep them quiet at least until they get inside and start creating before bed time. I bite back several smiles as I hear lines I remember my own parents using on me when I was smaller, '_If you're a good boy, you can have these in the car. But you _must_ be good when we get in.' _I think my favorite is '_Remember I have Santa on speed dial!_' Santa. I had been devastated when I found out he didn't exist. Definitely one of the low points of my life so far. That and having to wait until my birthday to get my PS3. I mean, I've heard of neglect, but that was just cruel. Everyone else had them as soon as they came out, but I had to _earn _mine. My parents always have been big in to earning things you want. They say it makes your soul purer if you work to achieve things, and you'll be able to get in to Heaven. I pretended to believe them for their sake, really. Thankfully, the PS3 had paid its debt back to me, and made all the washing dishes and scrubbing the bathroom – even the toilet – and tidying my room, vacuuming, laying the table and all that jazz, all worth it. I realize I am itching to get home to it now and have a good nerd hour to myself. My homework is all finished, so why ever not? Algebra can do on, English essays be damned. "You're nineteen?"

Dean glances over at me, clearly started out of his own daydream. My subconscious makes me scan him for any sign of a deadly weapon. Maybe if I can spot it now, I have a chance of saving myself when he decides to try and kill me later on. "What of it?"

I shrug. "I just thought you were older."  
He frowns. "Ok-ay." He drags out the word, then turns away, as if I've just said the dorkiest thing he's ever heard.

More customers approach, and I flash them a bright smile. I sidle across the van, closer to Dean. I think of it as a display of dominance. He doesn't frighten me. "Can I help you?" I think I could get used to serving people in a candy store. They seem sweeter than most normal customers. Excuse the pun.

As I am serving these customers – the little girl changes her mind a good half dozen times before finally deciding – I feel Dean pressing up against my back. It is totally unnecessary, but somehow, he makes it come across otherwise. He leans down and greets another set of customers, and I jolt forward as I feel his groin brush past my butt. The heat coming from it almost burns me, but that isn't the most shocking discovery. As he squeezed past me again, it is confirmed that he has a raging boner. He manoeuvres himself around me again to serve another customer, and if I didn't know better, I would think he was trying to get friction from my behind. I press myself in to the counter, but he just mirrors and presses harder in to me. Then he moves away completely, and I am left with my heart pounding in my throat, and my own dick picking up some very unwanted interest. I press in to the counter more, trying to frighten my own growing erection off.

The rush begins to die down by about a quarter past seven, and I lean over the counter to serve two girls of about fifteen, who are both whispering to each other and giggling like a pair of hyenas about something.

"What's your name?"

I frown. "Cas." I prefer to introduce myself as that – it sounds a bit less stupid than Castiel. Being named after the Angel of Thursday has yet to show its positive sides.

"I'm Katy," The dark haired girl answers.

_Oh fuck._ I smile. It's anything but natural; stiff, stupid, goofy. Any of the above. "How can I- FUCK!" I cover my mouth. "Sorry." I blush. "I stubbed my toe." Either that, or Dean has vanished under the counter again and his hands are working on steadily bringing my hard on back to life. I attempt to kick out at him, but he dodges this time.

Katy and her friend laugh.

"You're really cute."

I blush again, like a ten year old girl and grasp on to the edges of the counter as I feel Dean's hands snake up the inside of my shorts and fondle my balls. "Thanks... I, uh," I cough to cover up a moan. "You too."

"Selena, isn't he cute?"

Selena nods. She elbows Katy. "You should ask for his number."

I blanch. I don't know my number. Good time for my brain to give up on me. I can feel sweat beginning to bead on my forehead at the sheer concentration on keeping quiet as I feel my shorts and boxers being yanked down. I gasp as the cool air hits my – regrettably, _shamefully_ – painfully hard penis, and I slam my elbow down on the counter and rest my chin in my hand. "I get off at 9." I offer.

"I'm sure we can help you with that." Katy says suggestively.

I actively stop my jaw from dropping for the sixth time that day, and I smile. My eyes close against my will, and I let out a shuddering breath. Dean has hold of my cock now, and he is stroking his hand up and down. I can't even pretend it doesn't feel fucking amazing. I have no idea why I am letting him do this to me, but it feels so good. I have just discovered I have a kink for IPDAs. _Inappropriate_ PDAs. "Hah, fuck..." Dean's mouth is now around my dick, and his tongue is flicking around the head. It feels divine. I've only ever had one blowjob, and it was nowhere near as exquisite as this. My knees are beginning to feel weak, and I have to lean most of my weight on the counter. I guess I am roughly the same color as a tomato, but I smile giddily down at the girls. "Did you want any candy?" I manage.

Katy points out two pops, both cylindrical in shape. "One each please."

"Ngh, fuck... Okay. Yeah." His hands are doing unthinkable things to my privates as the speed of his mouth sliding up and down my length increases, and I feel my balls tighten. I am going to come in a matter of seconds if this keeps up.

The girls look at each other, now looking a little put out as I exchange the lollies for money.

I drop my head to the counter, then follow through the action dropping to my haunches, shorts and boxers around my ankles. "What the fuck are you doing?" I hiss at Dean.

He grins, his cheeks flushed and his full lips plumped out and wet. He runs his thumb across his lips, and his tongue darts out to lick the moisture off his thumb, and if that isn't the damned hottest thing I have ever seen. I bite my lip. He pushes his thumb in to my mouth, and the taste is like sugar mixed with salt. I'm not quite sure what to think of it. I point in between his eyes. "You're a dick." I stand up, and grin sheepishly at the two girls, both of whom are now looking closer to spooked out. "Sorry. Dropped the money." I fish out their change and hand it back to Katy. As if the gods were actually at work for once, a shrill, almost ear drum piercing shriek sounds, and Katy pales.

"Katherine Louise Witton!" It must be her mother. No one addresses someone by their whole name unless they are your mother. "I have been looking all over for you." She continues. "I was worried sick."

Serena seems to have shrunk away too.

The angry mother looks up at me, and she glares accusingly. Her expression softens slightly when she sees Dean – when the fuck did he get up? - and she positively turns catatonic when Dean smiles at her and reaches out to shake her hand.

"Dean Winchester."

I glance at him, and am amazed to see he looks a lot less ruffled than he did just moments before.

"Oh. I'm, uh, Katy's Mom." She smiles. "You know kids. Running off when your back is turned." She twiddles her hands nervously. "I'm glad they found somewhere safe to hang out." Her eyes drift to me again, and I feel as if I've done something wrong. "They're a little _hormonal_ at the moment, you know. Rebellious." Even I begin to wince at her ramblings, the girls are positively glowing the embarrassment, but Dean, ever cool Dean, is showing no signs of discomfort.

"They have been no trouble at all." Dean comments. "They just bought some candy. I'm sure I heard them saying they were coming to find you right away." He winks at the girls.

"Oh." The mother grins. "Thank you. Uh.." She turns to the girls. "Both of you, now." She gives Dean another wide smile, then looks at me funny again, then she strides off, both girls trailing after her like kicked puppies.

I do not want to know what consequences there are going to be for those two that evening. Something tells me it's not the first time they have sneaked off and found themselves a helpless young lad to prey upon. I turn to see Dean grinning at me like a wide mouth frog. "What?"

He shrugs. "Nothing."

I turn away from him, pressing myself as close in to the corner of the van as I can. This is a shame I can leave until another time to deal with.

**Chapter 3 is done! Thank you if you are still with me ;D Much love x x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, here it is. What you've all been waiting for! The real filth =p**

**Fourth and final chapter, people! Woo!**

A few more people approach over the next ten minutes, but I notice that the place is almost deserted already. By 7.45, there are only a handful of customers dotted around the inside market, and by 7.55, there is no one. Most of the stalls have closed down, tills emptied, items covered over, anything of any value removed. 8.15 and the place is desolate. Not another soul about. I look at Dean. "Is there a reason we're still here?"

The way he looks back at me is enough to make my blood run cold. Or hot. I can't tell which. He closes in on me, and I press myself against the side of the van. Perhaps if I am really lucky, it'll cave through, and I'll be able to run for it. Luck doesn't appear to be on my side for a change, and Dean has me caged in against the wall with his arms before I know it. "You enjoyed my little treat earlier." It isn't a question.

I swallow. I can feel my body betraying me and reacting to his proximity.

He leans in real close, and I can feel his lips brushing against the sensitive skin on my neck as he speaks. "I know I did." He presses his groin against me, and I can feel his already hard cock pressing against mine. I am halfway there already, but the way he grinds himself on to me helps me get all the way there. "I know you didn't steal that candy, by the way."

I attempt to push him back, but it doesn't work. "What? Then why?" Then he takes me by surprise and presses his lips chastely against mine. I freeze up, but he is insistent. His lips are as soft as I imagined they would be, and they are warm. I feel his tongue trace over my lips in a silent plea to part them. It doesn't take long for me to give in. His body relaxes against mine, and his hands find mine and interlock with them. I feel him beginning to rub himself against me, and I know I am as desperate for the friction as he is. I reply with my own rhythm, and Dean is the first to break away from our kiss, panting. "Fuck you're hot, Cas."

I don't reply, but I free one hand and grab on to his ass, pulling him closer to me. The responding moan tells me he appreciated the gesture, and I smile, repeating it. He closes his lips over mine again, and this time the kiss is heated, almost aggressive. The noises he is making should almost be illegal. Almost.

"Fuck," Dean pushed away, his lips bruised and swollen, and he looks down. "I'm gonna come in my pants if we carry on." He kisses me quickly again.

I pull him in for another kiss. I move my lips slowly against his. "What do you want, Dean?"

He kisses me again. His hand slips up my top and he toys with my left nipple. His fingers are rough and calloused, but it feels good. I lean my head back against the wall of the van, and Dean takes advantage, kissing and nibbling at my neck. That also feels good. "You." His breath is hot on my ear, and his tongue runs over the lobe of my ear.

"Hmm?" I am nearly delirious with pleasure, and I can't quite comprehend what he's saying.

"I want you, Cas." His hands close around my ass, and he pulls my pelvis in to his, again mirroring my actions. "I want to fuck you, Cas."

I nearly melt at that. Him saying that in his deep, rough voice does things to me that I didn't think possible. I run my fingers through his short hair and I turn his head so his ear is by my lips. "I want you to fuck me."

Apparently, that is all the convincing Dean needs. In a moment, I feel hands; palming at my hard on, slipping round the back of my shorts, pulling my shorts down. I moan as his hands clasp my buttocks and give them a firm squeeze. He kisses me again, swallowing the other, desperate noises I am making. "Turn around."

I frown. "What?"

Dean doesn't repeat his words, but he nods.

I obey, unsure of what else to do.

"Put your hands on the wall." He breathes. He is again close enough that I can feel his arousal pressing against me insistently. His first move is to kiss my neck. His hands are stationary on my hips, a firm, but far from painful, hold. "You're going to need to hold on." The words send a shiver down my spine. Anticipation holds me rigid as the heat from Dean's body vanishes. There is quiet for a while. It is only half a dozen seconds or so, but it feels like forever. Then his lips are against my left butt cheek. He places kisses all over each cheek, before nuzzling between them. I tense, and he waits. I relax, and I feel him make his move. His fingers trace between my cheeks, and brush over the puckered hole I never thought I would be dealing with in this sort of a situation. The hand moves. When it returns, it is slickened, and it plays around my entrance. I'm not quite sure what to think. The question briefly pops in to my mind, where the fuck did he get lube from. I think of the deep pockets in the shorts we are both wearing, and I bite my lip. And there was me thinking they were to hold your phone and money and other innocent items. I have little time to think about this as a finger pushes inside me. Once it is inside me, it stills, and I adjust. I have been curious enough to attempt anal play on myself, but I have yet to find the famous G spot I have read about. Not that I read about things like that. Once again, I relax, and the finger begins sliding slowly in and out of me. I begin to enjoy the sensation; it's different and new to me, but not entirely unpleasant. Another finger slips in beside the first one, and I feel my muscles begin to loosen. The second finger slides out, and I am left feeling empty, and a little disappointed. I open my mouth to speak, but all words are lost to me as I feel something hot circling my hole. Holy fuck. It's his tongue. The sensations are overwhelmingly fantastic as his expert tongue glides around my entrance, and dips in next to the finger that is holding my hole open for easier access. I cry out, and fall forward, my head hitting the van and my arms collapsing so I am supported now by my forearms pushing against the walls of the van. The tongue darts in and out, around and around, and I feel myself getting lost to the ecstasy. "Dean..." I don't quite know why I say his name. I think I was going to beg him to stop, but I really don't want him to. He gives no sign of giving in. I can feel myself losing control, and I feel the fuck I should be giving flying farther and farther away. I am sure I am going to blow my load right here, right now. I reach down to my erection, but my hand it batted away. His finger and tongue finally finish their assault, and I slump forward on to the wall.

Dean's body isn't far behind me, and he ruts himself against me, reminding me of what we are doing here. I push my behind out towards him, offering myself up to him. His fingers tests my hole again, then I feel the head of his dick rubbing between my ass cheeks. It presses against my hole, and I release the breath I have been holding, allowing myself to fall lax, and totally trusting back against Dean. I hiss as he begins to push inside me, but he is patient. He doesn't push too far or too hard. He kisses my neck and toys with a nipple to keep me distracted from the discomfort. Once he is fully sheathed, he stops. He sucks on my shoulder, and I know it is going to leave a mark, but it feels good, so I don't stop him. One hand is holding on to my hips, and the other has relocated to my balls. He strokes and fondles them softly. It takes me a moment to notice he has started moving. His breathing rate has increased noticeably, but he is keeping himself steady. He isn't pulling out too far, or pushing in too deep, and he isn't moving too fast. It is perfect. I begin to enjoy the feeling, and answer his thrusts with thrusts of my own. Just as I relax in to the rhythm, he slips in perhaps deeper than before, and lightning shoots through me as he brushes past what I presume must be the mystery G spot. I cry out. And it is loud. Loud enough that if anyone is outside the barn, within fifty feet of it, they most definitely would have heard.

Dean moans in reply, and his head drops to my shoulder. "Oh fuck, you feel so good, Cas."

I try to reply, but a broken groan is all I manage.

"Are you a virgin?" He whispers.

I manage to nod.

"Fuck..." He begins to push deeper in me, keeping up that punishing rhythm, and I feel him brush past my G spot again and again. It is fucking euphoric, and I know that I am moaning constantly, and calling out Dean's name as I feel myself get closer and closer to the edge. "Let go for me," His voice is soft, but raspy. His hand closes around my dick, and he starts sweeping his hand up and down my length, muttering about how generously proportioned I am, and we become all moans and each other's names and sensation. I feel my balls constrict again, and I panic that I am going to come to see.

"Dean..." I say again, and I cry out again. "I can't hold on..."

His hand tightens, and his movements become faster, more fluid. I am not going to last. He is too good at this. I can feel the precum dripping from the end of my dick. Dean swipes a thumb across the sensitive head and gathers the cum up. He uses it as lube as he pumps me closer and closer. "Oh... Fuck... Dean..." And I come. I feel the spunk spurting out of me, and I just about register horror at the fact that it is probably all over Dean's hand as well as the inside of his van.

He seems not to care about anything as he utters "Cas..." And he climaxes inside me, fucking out the rest of his orgasm before finally coming to a stop. He stays in me for the time being. We are both beyond words for a while.

As my post orgasmic haze begins to subside, I start to feel uncomfortable. I wiggle until Dean slips out of me, then settle for just laying down on the floor, thoroughly fucked out and exhausted. Dean joins me, and puts an arm around me.

Thank fuck someone has padlocked the door, or Dean and I would have had a lot to answer for, being found asleep, half naked and curled up together on the floor of the van.

"Just a minute!" I yell. I yank my shorts and boxers back up, grimacing as I feel Dean's cum dripping out of me and soaking in to my boxers. He smirks at me as he pulls up his own underwear and shorts.

I rake my fingers through my hair in a weak attempt to flatten it down a bit. I make for the door, but Dean catches me by the wrist and pulls me in to a deep kiss. There is something behind this one that hasn't been there before, or that I haven't noticed before. Before I get a chance to question it, Dean trots to the door and tells my parents where to find the key. He explains that they were closing up shop and stopped for a quick coffee, and someone must have left and locked up, thinking they had already gone. My parents look like they believe him. They have a brief exchange about me as if I am not there, and I look to the floor to try and cover up the wild flush as I feel Dean's cum making tracks down the back of my leg. I lean down to swipe at it, pretending to scratch. No one looks at me twice. Well, Dean does. There is a twinkle in his eye, and somehow I know that he knows exactly what I am doing.

"I'd be happy to have him again."

I flush again at the double entendre in his words.

Somehow, I end up with a weekend job, helping Dean on his Sweet Van. Somehow, I know this is going to be fun. Or incredible torturous. Either way, I am looking forward to next Sunday.

My parents bid their farewells and start back towards the car.

"I'll be just a moment." I call out as Dean drags me back in to the barn.

As soon as we are inside, Dean has me pinned again, and I can feel my dick starting to pick up to the situation again. He runs his hand up the back of my legs and between my ass cheeks. When he moves his hand away, he pauses long enough for me to notice the cum on his fingers. He licks it away slowly, then pushes me in to a doubly filthy kiss. When we part, we are both breathless. He pushes a small card in to my hand. "Call me."

I nod. With that, I run, careful not to slip, trip, fall or make a tit of myself in any other way. When I am in the car, I use my phone to look at the card.

Dean's Sweet Van. His number is printed beneath.

After the events of tonight, there is no doubt in my mind that I shall be giving him a call.

I smile.

**-fin-**

**Just a bit of fun. I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews always appreciated! **

**Yes, I really did dream about that. I am baaad!**


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